Not quite three years ago I went on a trip to Washington DC for the National Science Olympiad competition. By the time I got home, not only was I absolutely sure that I wanted to go to George Washington University, I was pretty positive that I would be going there. At the time I was 15. I was the farthest from home I had ever been without my parents and I was high on life. Everything was just perfect. I had been... not at my best for a while before the trip and the sudden feeling of success made the whole trip one that I will never forget. Back then I was convinced about many things that I no longer think are true.
It hasn't even been three years. Yet, I am a completely different person from that girl who came home from DC with a silver medal and a dream to be a college student at a large university in probably one of the busiest places in the country. Back then I kept myself in the small cage that had been created by my experiences the two years prior. I only allowed myself to get so far from where I knew I already succeeded and I was so convinced that I was on the track I wanted to be on. What a way to be, right?
Something happened that summer. I don't know what it is, except that the basic idea is that I grew up. By the time school started I was already beginning to cling to the walls of that cage a little bit. I disliked my Chemistry class and my math class was boring. It was odd, but Newspaper was becoming my favorite part of my schedule. I had always been good at English, but never before had it been the subject I looked forward to more than anything else (Mrs. Money's Algebra 2 class was tied with Mr. T's English class in 9th grade, I was a nerd, I know.) Wheels began turning in my mind and the one thing I had always thought that I would never want to do, was something I was beginning to think may be pretty cool.
That was just the beginning. I went through a phase where I was absolutely certain I wanted to go to SUU and major in Journalism. Journalism faded slowly to the possibility of English and eventually USU came into the mix as well. Then I took AP Psychology and was enchanted by the workings of the human mind. I realized that not only was it something that intrigued me, but it was something I was good at. Since I had realized that I didn't really understand math and science, I had struggled to find that. To me, my ability to write essays does not really amount to a real world skill. Understanding people, now that is something that could get me into a good career. I spent some time being certain that I wanted to go into Psychology.
Now, two years later, I have changed even more. It is the critical period in my high school career and I am split in so many directions. My internship with Mr. T is enlightening in that I think I really could be successful at teaching. I could like it, too. On top of all that, Westminster has been added to the list of colleges that I am considering. It is expensive, I know, but it is a good college and is located close enough to home that I could keep my job and not have to pay living costs. It's made my choosing a college that much more difficult. The thing is, I'm not that worried about it. I will end up at a college where I feel I will be successful. Eventually I will choose the major that I think I will enjoy most.
For now, my biggest concern is the application process. I have to make sure that I can get into the colleges that I want to apply to and I need to start applying for scholarships. I also need to make sure that I take the time to enjoy and appreciate the opportunities I am being given as a senior. I learned my lesson in 9th grade when I spent so much time worrying about things that proved to be so insignificant. I forgot to enjoy what I had then and there. I don't regret it because I learned something from it.
Anyway, this rant actually did come from somewhere. Tomorrow is my high school's college day. The seniors get to skip two class periods to go see presentations from three different colleges. I'm glad that my top three college choices will all be there. I don't know how much help it will be, but I plan to see what they have to say and hopefully be able to make some decisions from there. Then on Saturday I will be going down to Westminster to their senior open house. There's a lot of big things going on right now. It's absolutely crazy that we're already at midterm. This school year is going by so much faster than I had expected it to.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The Return
It was odd to be back here. Stepping off of the train and looking around the station he remembered the day he left. He could see the bench - which was actually no longer there - where he had left his luggage by accident all those years ago. He imagined the air, heavy with moisture from the rain, that contrasted so much with the warm, bright light that floated in from the windows now.
A decade had passed since he left this place. In that time he had traveled the world. He had been through many jobs before finally discovering one he could settle at. He had met new people and made new friends. He had forgotten and he had forgiven as was his intention when he boarded the train that took him away.
Maybe forgotten wasn't the right word. As he stood, looking around, noting the foreign familiarity of the room, he knew he did not forget. He moved on. He had found a new way to live, but his past hadn't left him. He knew that now.
The sudden appearance of her soft face and dark hair (which was shorter now, he thought) was shocking an expected all at the same time. She had not forgotten either. The look in her eyes as their gazes met proved that to him.
He was shocked by how different she looked. It was as if her sophistication and obvious maturity made her taller, somehow. It made him wonder if they could fix things now. They had both grown up... But that was the point, wasn't it?
As her train arrived and she climbed aboard, giving him one last, familiar smile, he knew that this was their destiny. They had influenced each others' lives as much as they were ever meant to.
He looked forward to the street as he left the station, feeling a kind of relief he hadn't felt in ten years.
A decade had passed since he left this place. In that time he had traveled the world. He had been through many jobs before finally discovering one he could settle at. He had met new people and made new friends. He had forgotten and he had forgiven as was his intention when he boarded the train that took him away.
Maybe forgotten wasn't the right word. As he stood, looking around, noting the foreign familiarity of the room, he knew he did not forget. He moved on. He had found a new way to live, but his past hadn't left him. He knew that now.
The sudden appearance of her soft face and dark hair (which was shorter now, he thought) was shocking an expected all at the same time. She had not forgotten either. The look in her eyes as their gazes met proved that to him.
He was shocked by how different she looked. It was as if her sophistication and obvious maturity made her taller, somehow. It made him wonder if they could fix things now. They had both grown up... But that was the point, wasn't it?
As her train arrived and she climbed aboard, giving him one last, familiar smile, he knew that this was their destiny. They had influenced each others' lives as much as they were ever meant to.
He looked forward to the street as he left the station, feeling a kind of relief he hadn't felt in ten years.
The Other Side of the story
Why can't I move? Why can't I force myself from this spot? What is the point of standing here, staring at this train? It's not even the same train that he left on, and yet, I can't leave. I feel like maybe if I stand here long enough he will come back.
We all made our mistakes, but, though I know mine were the worst, shouldn't he be able to forgive me as well? I forgave him I forgot about all the lies, all the hurtful things he said. Why have I not been forgiven? He left me here all by myself without a single clue to where he was going.
A train. Tht's all I knew. He had taken his things and boarded a train. We weren't speaking to each other, I know, but he left. I never expected him to leave. I guess I should have tried to talk to him. Instead of months of silence there could have been words. I know that now. We could have fixed this. He didn't have to leave.
I have been a stone for so long. Maybe that is why he left. I had no remorse. I showed no sorrow for the events that tore us apart. I was cold and distant toward everyone. That didn't do any good. He left on a train and now I am here watching other trains go by. Trying to hold myself together. Trying to prevent the breakdown I know is just under the surface.
I didn't realize before, but without him I am completely alone.
We all made our mistakes, but, though I know mine were the worst, shouldn't he be able to forgive me as well? I forgave him I forgot about all the lies, all the hurtful things he said. Why have I not been forgiven? He left me here all by myself without a single clue to where he was going.
A train. Tht's all I knew. He had taken his things and boarded a train. We weren't speaking to each other, I know, but he left. I never expected him to leave. I guess I should have tried to talk to him. Instead of months of silence there could have been words. I know that now. We could have fixed this. He didn't have to leave.
I have been a stone for so long. Maybe that is why he left. I had no remorse. I showed no sorrow for the events that tore us apart. I was cold and distant toward everyone. That didn't do any good. He left on a train and now I am here watching other trains go by. Trying to hold myself together. Trying to prevent the breakdown I know is just under the surface.
I didn't realize before, but without him I am completely alone.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Platform
"The world moved on."*
The words came from a book he remembered reading long ago. Back then, he had thought it sounded cool but put no further thought to it than that.
Now the words came to him from some dark and unused corner of his mind as he stood on the edge of the platform. His world had certainly moved on. Gone were the days of camaraderie and laughter. Somewhere between all of the words he had said and those he had always wanted, but never could actually say his world, and the separate worlds of all those around him, had moved on.
He supposed that it must be time to move on as well. Forgive and forget was the phrase that came to his mind. Looking back, he knew that his past would always be a part of him, but maybe, just this once, he could move on without bringing the bitterness with him.
Sounds of the approaching train reached his ears as he took a deep breath. It really was time to move on, he though, no denying it now.
When the train came to a stop the man moved toward it, ready to board. He sat watching the platform as the train began to move. He never realized that he had left his luggage behind.
*Credit for this phrase actually goes to The Gunslinger by Stephen King.
The words came from a book he remembered reading long ago. Back then, he had thought it sounded cool but put no further thought to it than that.
Now the words came to him from some dark and unused corner of his mind as he stood on the edge of the platform. His world had certainly moved on. Gone were the days of camaraderie and laughter. Somewhere between all of the words he had said and those he had always wanted, but never could actually say his world, and the separate worlds of all those around him, had moved on.
He supposed that it must be time to move on as well. Forgive and forget was the phrase that came to his mind. Looking back, he knew that his past would always be a part of him, but maybe, just this once, he could move on without bringing the bitterness with him.
Sounds of the approaching train reached his ears as he took a deep breath. It really was time to move on, he though, no denying it now.
When the train came to a stop the man moved toward it, ready to board. He sat watching the platform as the train began to move. He never realized that he had left his luggage behind.
*Credit for this phrase actually goes to The Gunslinger by Stephen King.
Letter to a Season
Dear Summer,
Though I am sad to see you go, I must admit that I am glad for the return of Fall. I am not saying that Fall is better than you.Don't feel betrayed. I will wait longingly for you once again come winter.
There is just something about the cool air and the morning light that is better in Fall. I know, I never see your morning light, but you see, Fall gives me reason to.
Fall colors also make me happy. The turning of the leaves from green to red is a sight quite unlike any other. Your colors are the blue of refreshing waters and the beige of sandy beaches. Don't be upset, I lovey our colors, too. I will be glad to return to them eventually.
Summer, my time with you has been wonderful. I would not trade being forced awake by the late morning sunshine for anything. I love the warm nights spent in the backyard barbecuing as much as any person.
I'm sorry, though. It's time for a change. I need to move on with my life and I think Fall is the most reasonable way to do so.
Though I am sad to see you go, I must admit that I am glad for the return of Fall. I am not saying that Fall is better than you.Don't feel betrayed. I will wait longingly for you once again come winter.
There is just something about the cool air and the morning light that is better in Fall. I know, I never see your morning light, but you see, Fall gives me reason to.
Fall colors also make me happy. The turning of the leaves from green to red is a sight quite unlike any other. Your colors are the blue of refreshing waters and the beige of sandy beaches. Don't be upset, I lovey our colors, too. I will be glad to return to them eventually.
Summer, my time with you has been wonderful. I would not trade being forced awake by the late morning sunshine for anything. I love the warm nights spent in the backyard barbecuing as much as any person.
I'm sorry, though. It's time for a change. I need to move on with my life and I think Fall is the most reasonable way to do so.
Regretfully,
Madi
Water Bottle
It is the first week of a new school year and, though it may no longer be summer to us, the temperature tries to tell us otherwise. It does not help that we are all stuck in classrooms where the air is not fresh and hallways filled with our classmates.
In this setting, my water bottle is my ally. The hot classrooms and crowded hallways leave me parched without it. Just the crack of the seal breaking as I open it leaves me feeling a little cooler and at moments when, without it, I would be fighting the desire to run out of class to the nearest drinking fountain, it saves me from the torture.
Without my water bottle I would not be nearly as successful in my classes. The heat and my thirst would leave me constantly distracted. My work would become jumbled and incoherrent and I would be nothing more than a new senior, deserate to return to the ever fading days of summer.
My water bottle allows me to make the transition between summer and school with the least amount of pain possible.
In this setting, my water bottle is my ally. The hot classrooms and crowded hallways leave me parched without it. Just the crack of the seal breaking as I open it leaves me feeling a little cooler and at moments when, without it, I would be fighting the desire to run out of class to the nearest drinking fountain, it saves me from the torture.
Without my water bottle I would not be nearly as successful in my classes. The heat and my thirst would leave me constantly distracted. My work would become jumbled and incoherrent and I would be nothing more than a new senior, deserate to return to the ever fading days of summer.
My water bottle allows me to make the transition between summer and school with the least amount of pain possible.
Name
My first name, Catherine, seems to be a sophisticated name.Right away, Queen Catherine comes to mind. That is not me, though. I am not royalty and I am far from queenly sophistication. Madi fits me much better. It is a nickname taken from Madison, a name once more associated with men and I think even that fits me. I have been a tom boy my whole life.
I used to be Madie. You wouldn't think that an 'e' would make much of a difference, but it did to me. Changing Madie to Madi gave me power over myself, even though Madi is not a powerful name. It is simple and logical, like myself. Madi is much more fitting than Catherine or Madison, but I have been called by other names that have also fit me well. To my mom I am sometimes Mac and to my youngest sisters I am often Kat. These names fit me when I am a daughter or an older sister, but when I am a friend or a student or when I am just me, Madi works just fine.
I used to be Madie. You wouldn't think that an 'e' would make much of a difference, but it did to me. Changing Madie to Madi gave me power over myself, even though Madi is not a powerful name. It is simple and logical, like myself. Madi is much more fitting than Catherine or Madison, but I have been called by other names that have also fit me well. To my mom I am sometimes Mac and to my youngest sisters I am often Kat. These names fit me when I am a daughter or an older sister, but when I am a friend or a student or when I am just me, Madi works just fine.
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